The weapon, p.19
The Weapon, page 19
part #1 of Star Fighters Series
Having completed the analysis, Wheeler began moving towards the camp.
He drew his plasma blaster with his left hand and held it in a low ready position. The plasma blaster was set to a non-lethal setting – he didn’t want to kill these guys if he didn’t have to, and from the looks of their non-existent tactics, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t have to.
He slowed down for the last few hundred yards, careful to keep behind cover and watching his steps to ensure that he didn’t make any noise that would attract their attention.
At twenty yards he kneeled behind a large tree trunk, aimed his blaster at Hale’s back, and fired.
Hale instantly slumped over, falling face down into the ground.
Mathew had been perched on a small boulder, and quickly whirled around the moment he saw Hale go down. He tried to stand up buy Wheeler blasted him as well and he fell flat on his back.
Wheeler quickly closed the distance and checked both for signs of life.
They were both fine – out cold – but breathing and unharmed.
He carefully removed the bracelet from Hale’s wrist and placed it on the ground nearby, while he retrieved sections of rope from his armor’s supply kit and used it to tie the two men to a nearby tree trunk.
Satisfied that they would not be going anywhere, he picked up the bracelet and walked over to where Philips was being held immobile.
“Nice job!” said Philips. “I tried so hard to pretend I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t want to alert them to what was going on behind them.”
“They seemed totally oblivious,” said Wheeler. “They don’t have any military training. Even Mathew – which surprises me, being that he was an Inner Worlds operative.”
“Who knows,” said Philips. “Can you get me out of here?”
“Not sure how this works,” said Wheeler, as he carefully turned the bracelet over in his hands. “Did you see what he did when he activated the field?”
“Not really,” said Philips. “I thought he turned a knob or something. But I really can’t say.”
Wheeler shook his head. “I don’t see any knobs. No buttons either.”
“Ask Leah to look at it,” said Philips. “She’s good with technology.”
“Can’t raise her,” said Wheeler. “Seems they’ve got comms blocked.”
“OK. If you can get back to your Star Fighter, the AI link might be able to figure out how that thing works.”
“I hate leaving you here like this,” said Wheeler. “What if their friends show up?”
“I don’t see another option,” said Philips.
“There is just one option,” a distant voice said.
“Wheeler! Behind those trees!” shouted Philips.
Wheeler spun around, raised his blaster and got off three rounds before feeling overcome by a flash of heat.
A moment later the heat dissipated. He struggled and strained but despite his best efforts, he found that he was unable to move.
Philips sighed. “Welcome to the club man.”
--
The three men in gray robes stood solemnly before Wheeler and Philips.
“Your actions are unbecoming and an embarrassment to the one who has called us here,” said the man with the bracelet around his wrist.
“We understand that you have not been called, but rather sent by forces opposed to our quest for enlightenment,” said the man. “But that does not excuse your actions,” he said, pointing to the unconscious Hale and Mathew, who were still tied to a nearby tree trunk.
“We have been promised a paradise,” the man continued, “and you promptly display the worse inclinations of our species.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Philips. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Young man,” said the man with the bracelet, “I am John. I hold the rank of Seer. My colleagues here are Adam and Savant. I see you have already met our brothers, Hale and Mathew.”
“We said our hellos earlier,” quipped Philips.
“Now that you know who we are,” said John, “who are you?”
“My name is Sam Philips. My immobile friend next to me is Timothy Wheeler,” said Philips.
“Agents of the Inner Worlds government, I presume?” asked John.
“More or less,” agreed Philips.
“Your purpose here, Mr. Philips? Mr. Wheeler?” asked John.
“We’ll cut to the chase,” said Philips. “The fact of the matter is, we have heard that there might be a very dangerous device on this planet. We’re here to find it and secure it.”
“You must be referring to the cosmic pencil,” said John. “We have already secured it. There is nothing to fear from it. It poses no danger. Rather, it promises enlightenment.”
“Your brand of enlightenment keeps others awake at night,” said Philips. “Do you mind letting us out of this?” asked Philips. “It’s very uncomfortable.”
John stepped away for a moment to confer with his colleagues.
“Think they’ll cut us loose?” Philips asked Wheeler.
“I think you are making headway kid,” said Wheeler.
John returned and carefully looked at Philip’s face. Then he turned to Wheeler, his eyes searching.
“Very well,” said John. “I do not detect malice in either of you. But be warned, if you embarrass us again, your punishment will be swift.”
“We promise,” said Philips.
John manipulated something on his bracelet and the two Star Fighters were able to move again. They both holstered the weapons that were still in their hands, Wheeler also subtly palming the bracelet he had taken from Mathew, keeping it out of sight.
John motioned for them to follow him.
They walked through the lush environment without conversation. John kept a steady and deliberate pace, which Adam and Savant closely followed. Philips and Wheeler hung back a few yards, the better to keep the three Orion acolytes in full view, but otherwise maintained the required pace.
After perhaps thirty minutes, John led the group into a clearing.
The area was circular and about thirty yards in diameter. A twenty-foot monolith stood in the middle of the clearing. It was roughly rectangular but considerably wider at the base, while the top ten feet featured a progressively smaller diameter.
To the naked eye the monolith appeared to be a single massive stone, probably chiseled with hand tools to achieve its form.
However, the sensors in Wheeler’s and Philips’ armor suggested the structure was made of more exotic materials – certainly not native to the planet.
Besides the chisel marks, the monolith also featured markings of a different sort – possibly writing, given that some of the shapes repeated and clustered in faintly logical ways. A circle with a dot in the center featured prominently on one of the sides, while other geometric shapes dotted the other sides. Long brush strokes were woven into the backdrop of geometric shapes, while sections of the monolith clearly illustrated basic mathematical concepts.
John faced the monolith and bowed his head, while Adam and Savant kneeled and did the same.
Philips’ and Wheeler’s suits both registered a spike in the local energy gradient. It did not register as dangerous, but it had a unique signature, its pattern not recognized by their onboard computers.
Wheeler motioned for Philips to take a few steps back, and they both retreated about five yards before a white light emerged from the top of the monolith, which spilled over the its sides like a viscous, living liquid.
John and his men took several steps back, but kept their heads bowed in reverence to the light.
Once the light settled around the monolith, John looked up and said “Thank you for calling us to your purpose. We remain ready to learn and to hear your message.”
John bowed his head again and remained silent, while Adam and Savant stretched out their hands to touch the light. A tendril of light slowly snaked out and gently enveloped their outstretched hands, before withdrawing back into the main column.
Both Adam and Savant looked overjoyed and euphoric. They rubbed their hand against their faces and pressed them close to their chests, before bowing again before the pillar of light.
“Speak to us,” said John. “Call us to your purpose.”
Philips noticed Wheeler taking a staggered step back, as he stretched out his arms to maintain his balance. Shaking his head, he said “I need to sit down,” dropping a knee heavily into the earth below.
Philips watched as Wheeler’s eyes took on a distant, dreamy look, his head cradled in his hands. Walking around the other men, Philips noticed that John, Adam and Savant had similar expressions, lost in thought or in a waking dream.
Unable to get Wheeler’s attention, he keyed his comm and said “Leah. This is Philips. Are you reading me? We’re on the surface. We’ve made contact with the Order of Orion. They appear to be under the influence of an alien mind. Do you read?”
Adjusting his comm to another frequency, he repeated his message and also added, “Wheeler appears to be incapacitated. Possibly under the influence of the alien mind. Stand by.”
Philips nudged Wheeler with his foot. No response. He then grabbed him by his collar and shook him hard. No response.
“Wheeler, if you don’t snap out of it,” warned Philips, “I’m going to blast you and carry you back to your Star Fighter on my back.”
No response.
Philips shrugged. “OK then.”
He unholstered his blaster, set the power output on stun, and aimed directly at the monolith.
“Sorry,” he said, and pulled the trigger.
The blast of energy raced out of Philips’ blaster, went through the liquid light and hit the monolith squarely at its center.
The light flared green, then blue, then orange, before eventually returning to white.
A moment later another tendril of light reached out from the monolith and touched John the Seer. Without breaking its connection to John, it split in two, one-part enveloping Adam’s outstretched arms while another enveloped Savant’s arms. The light split again, this time embracing Wheeler before continuing towards Philips.
Philips tried to evade it, dodging left, out of its way, before changing direction and pumping his legs as hard as he could in an all-out sprint to get away from the light.
He barely ran three yards before the light completely enveloped him, gently stopping his run and forcing him to ponder his circumstances.
It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.
He felt warm and protected, part of something larger than himself without losing his identity or self-awareness.
In some sense it was like being completely engaged with his Star Fighter on team net mode, where he synced and integrated with his other teammates, his awareness enhanced through the Star Fighter sensors and the onboard computing speed of the onboard AIs.
He didn’t hear anyone speaking. There was no sound per se. There was no language to comprehend. Only concepts and nebulous thoughts.
Learn.
He tried resisting at first, but somewhere deep in his consciousness, he felt the need to open himself up to the idea of learning.
I want to learn.
Data and information began flowing through his consciousness.
Planetary data. Statistics regarding this system’s central star. Orbital details for all the planets. Information about the plant life all around him. Volcanic activity. Chemical balances in the atmosphere.
A part of him hoped that his onboard computer could record all this information. Would he remember any of this later? There was just so much to learn.
Seconds, or minutes, or hours or days passed – he wasn’t sure how long it had been – but eventually, the light subsided and released him from its warm, comforting embrace.
He stumbled and fell to the ground, grasping at the lush vegetation, smelling it and putting in his mouth.
It tasted so good. He held a leaf up to his cheek. Life. Dear sweet life. Life was everywhere. This planet, this life all around him, was a miracle.
Wheeler was the next to realize what it was like to nor longer experience the joys, and burdens, of the light’s embrace. He laid down on the floor, arms and legs outstretched, exhausted by the experience and wishing he had never agreed to accompany Philips on this mission.
The things he had seen were terrible. So many lives lost for nothing. The fate of millions turning on the decisions of one solitary figure. Wasteful wars that accomplished nothing. Hatred. Anger. Violence. So much effort expended, for nothing.
“Kid,” he shouted. “Where are you? Sam? Are you here?” Wheeler asked, still laying on his back, gazing into the clear blue sky.
Philips raised his palm in Wheeler’s direction. “I’m here Tim.”
“Help me up,” said Wheeler. “I’m so tired.”
Philips was about ten yards away from where Wheeler lay. He tried his best to reach him but was so distracted by the sheer diversity of flora all around him.
“Tim. This place is so beautiful,” said Philips. “So full of life. So full of promise. Look at it.”
“Kid,” replied Wheeler. “I can’t look at anything right now. Just need to get out of here. Coming here was a mistake. We need to go home.”
“Home?” asked Philips. “Look around you man. This is paradise. What can any other place offer us that we don’t have here in such beautiful living abundance.”
“You sound loopy,” said Wheeler, as he struggled to roll over on his chest and push himself up on hands and knees.
“I’m not loopy,” said Philips.
“Look at you,” replied Wheeler. “You can barely walk. You’re staggering all over the place.”
“So much to see Timothy,” said Philips, as he bent down to pick at a flower by his boots.
“As exhausted as I am,” said Wheeler. “I’m getting you out of here, on my back if I have to,” he said, as he staggered to his feet.
Wheeler slid open a panel cover on his suit’s left forearm and keyed a button. A second later his suit injected synthetic adrenal stimulant into his blood system.
“Kid,” said Wheeler. “You need to snap out of it. Take a stim shot. Do it now.”
Philips shook his head, as he bobbed along picking at flowers, smelling them before putting them in his mouth and chewing slowly. “Delicious,” said Philips.
More clearheaded now, Wheeler walked the ten yards to Philips and knocked a flower out of his hands. He grabbed Philips’ left hand, slid open the panel covering the suit’s emergency med kit, and pressed the button that would administer a stim shot.
Philips swatted Wheeler’s hand away, but not before the stim shot entered his blood stream, and moments later Philips began to regain focus, spitting out the green leaves he had been chewing on moments earlier.
“Thanks for that,” said Philips. “No idea what just happened.”
“I think I do,” said Wheeler. “That thing, that light, it was trying to communicate with us.”
“What did it say to you?” asked Philips.
“I didn’t say anything directly,” replied Wheeler. It showed me things. It made me feel things. A lot of horrible things. Wars, battles, commanders agonizing over their decisions. A lot of pain and anguish and suffering.”
“It was different for me,” said Philips. “It dumped a massive amount of information in my head.”
“About what?” asked Wheeler.
“This planet. This solar system. Life.”
“Do you remember any of it,” asked Wheeler. “That could come in very handy.”
“I thought I did before the stim shot,” replied Philips. “Right now? I’m not sure how much I can recall. I was hoping my onboard computer was recording through my implant links.”
“Can you access it to find out?” asked Wheeler.
Philips shook his head. “The memory is nearly full, but I can’t access anything while my suit is running its normal protocols. It’s either have a functioning suit or access the memory. Right now, I need this suit operational.”
“Agreed,” said Wheeler. “I don’t remember specifics. I’ve got images in my head. But no names or dates or places…I just know there was a major conflict somewhere in this part of the galaxy. And it wasn’t pretty.”
Worse than the Xanthu-Human war?” asked Philips.
Wheeler shrugged. “Not sure. But I think so.”
“We need to get Leah’s take on all this,” said Philips. He keyed his comm and said “Leah? Can you hear me?”
No response.
Wheeler tried raising her as well, with no luck either.
Philips looked at John, Adam, Savant and the others, who hadn’t moved since the light first enveloped them.
“They are still captivated by that light,” said Philips.
“That’s one way to put it,” said Wheeler. “Shall we wake them?”
“Stim shots?” asked Philips.
Wheeler smiled and nodded.
“Why not?” said Philips. “There’s five of them and two of us. Let’s just wake John. Maybe he can tell us something we don’t already know.”
Wheeler nodded, took a syringe-like device from his med kit and checked the readout. “Plenty of stim for a full-grown mule,” he said.
“Have at it man,” said Philips.
Wheeler cautiously approached John, pointed the device’s tip at his right bicep and pressed the button.
A second later John smacked at his right arm as if swatting a fly away, and the light promptly receded back towards the monolith.
He staggered back and forth for a minute, trying to regain focus without falling to the ground.
Finally, he looked up and saw Wheeler and Philips watching him as he steadied his feet, finding his footing again.
“What did you do?” asked John. He didn’t sound angry but had an annoyed look on his face. “I was in communion with the light.”
“Yeah, we know,” said Philips. “So were we. But we’ve got things to do and had to cut things short.”
“You should not have done that,” said John. “You don’t want to go down in history as the man who was offered true, literal divine intervention, only to turn it down out of ignorance or –.”
